Never Let Me Go
by ThisIsAwesomeness1825
Summary: "You don't love me that way." Late Percy birthday fic. A premonition to The Olympus Institute.


**Hi. Its been so looooong, but Ive been really busy with college and ugh, it consumed me. This is supposed to be a birthday fic (which was so late) for Percy but it kind of went out of hand and resulted to this mess. Seriously. This is rushed and messy and really confusing, I didnt bother to read it again.**

 **Also, THIS IS A PREMONITION OF THE OLYMPUS INSTITUTE because I cant help it and Im so excited to get it down the plot real fast BUT COLLEGE! So, expect me to be on hiatus for months except when I get my break, which is two weeks from now. AND PLEASE WISH ME LUCK ON MY FINALS AND TO THE MOST IMPORTANT TEST OF MY FRESHMAN LIFE.**

;

She's never felt so helpless. No. Never before.

When the fleeting gazes and hushed apologies had passed, she thought she'll be able to stand on her own two feet steadily, the burden of nightmares a weightless baggage, and she'll be, hopefully, the same fearless and strong and smart camp counselor who have managed to survive, let alone lead two wars.

And she was- is to their watching eyes.

But no, never to him.

He was always the one around her when she's having a nightmare or a panic attack, that she's beginning to wonder if all those instances were by chance or were those planned at all. It seemed silly, now that she thought of it, seeing as though they were forced together by fate. But as the vivid and raw images flashed again on her visions, the pure pain and anguish emotions started to envelop her to a burning madness; furious, flaming, dangerous.

She screamed and screamed till her voice hurt; her sharp nails drawing blood on her skin, painting her hands, her face, her arms with so much redthe pain remaining a dull throb against the war inside her head. She hated them- the gods with a passion, for making her a monster to her own self, for letting her-them suffer so much when they had done nothing but to save their sorry ass.

And now she's left with nothing but an empty shell of herself and blunt nails to dig her own grave as she sank further into the darkness.

Yet, even there, he followed her.

"Annabeth", she heard him murmur quietly, the voices inside her head suddenly quieting until they were only faint whispers. "Shh, I'm here. I'm not leaving you. You're safe. Shhh."

She focused on him, on his voice against her ear, his arms around her back. And slowly, she started to detach from hell to reappear back to her own self, her brain now registering the heightened pain from her angry marks on her skin.

He pulled back from her shaking body, as his hands started to dry the tears on her cheeks. She hated his gentleness, for how it seemed to mock her for all the harshness she'd inflicted on him yet, he still cared to touch her gently.

She never told him that though, and she just stared at him numbly as he gingerly picked her up from the floor and carried her shivering frame to his bathtub. Slowly, his careful hands found its way under shirt, tugging it aside; his fingers moving deftly as he unzipped and tugged at her pants, while she remained motionless beside him.

There's no hint of blush on her cheeks and there's none on him either. The current situation they're in didn't warrant those feelings, as she stared at him undressing her, his hands and eyes so focused and never lingering on the vast amount bare skin on display.

She knew that hell never be type to take advantage of her vulnerable side, even if she's barely dressed in front him; that's how much she trusts him but he doesnt know that.

His hands were now full with a damp towel as he carefully cleaned her bleeding scratches. He treated those first before placing her in the tub, and washing her hair with his soft smelling shampoo. And bit by bit, her body started to feel and her skin tingled, in every nerve ends of their skins.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, just as his palms rubbed soap lather on her back.

For a moment, his movements stopped, but he resumed at it quickly. "Dont be. Everyone has fears-"

"No," she cut him off. She let him trace the mark on the inside of her right armthe very same one he has on the small of his back. "I'm sorry because I'm not the one you expected me to be."

He stopped tracing, and she knew he perfectly understood what she was saying sorry for.

;

When she had been bathed and cleaned and dressed in his clothes, she stood off to the side and watched him fix his bed. He's never a tidy person, yes, she knew that fact, and so she can't help but smile slightly as he attempted to sort out the blanket and the pillows to make a decent bed.

A moment of frustration and he turned to her, "I hope you think its neat enough to sleep in," he said with an embarrassed smile.

"It is," she affirmed. "Thank you."

She waited for his embrace, for his goodnight a burst of air on her ear, but felt his lips on her forehead instead, pressing a short kiss before pulling back and tucking her hair behind her ear. "Goodnight, Annabeth."

She's staring at him, puzzled and before he completely moved away from her, she reached and grasped his wrist.

Her grey eyes looked up at him, a curious question behind the glint. "Why you never kiss my lips?"

He gazed at her with that bright green eyes, the glimmer inside them never seemed to dim. She felt his thumb brush lightly on her lips.

"You don't love me that way," he said, as if that alone solved her question.

And in fact it was.

Without waiting for her response, he already turned his back and walked towards the couch. Within a few minutes, he's fast asleep while she's left standing in the same place earlier.

And all of a sudden, her feet started moving towards him till she was standing just a few inches away from his sleeping figure.

Watching him like this, asleep and peaceful and carefree brought a strange ache in her chest. It wasn't bad per se, but it was painful and strangely unknown to her.

At first, she cursed him. For among the billions of men in earth she has to be paired with him. She never made his life easy, always trying to make him feel guilty and sorry for being her soulmate. Yet, shes supposed to be the one saying sorry for not being deserving of his affections. He's supposed to have the best, which she knew of, but her heart hurt when she thought of somebody else laughing with him, holding him, loving him. She's so so selfish she wanted to hate herself, but she wanted him, all of him.

Remembering his words earlier, it hurt more, like her heart was constricted inside her shrinking chest.

 _You don't love me that way._

'No, you're wrong,' she thought, but she's not going tell him that until later, until she found herself worthy of his attention, of his love, of all of him.

One day, shes going to kiss him, eyes wide open and awake and maybe even tell him what she feels. One day.

For now, she closed her eyes, leaned down and kissed his parted mouth, her lips relinquishing the taste of him and whispered,

"Happy birthday, Percy."


End file.
